2The precious sons of Zion, Who are comparable with fine gold, How have they been reckoned earthen bottles, Work of the hands of a potter.
3Even dragons have drawn out the breast, They have suckled their young ones, The daughter of my people is become cruel, Like the ostriches in a wilderness.
4Cleaved hath the tongue of a suckling unto his palate with thirst, Infants asked bread, a dealer out they have none.
5Those eating of dainties have been desolate in out-places, Those supported on scarlet have embraced dunghills.
6And greater is the iniquity of the daughter of my people, Than the sin of Sodom, That was overturned as [in] a moment, And no hands were stayed on her.
7Purer were her Nazarites than snow, Whiter than milk, ruddier of body than rubies, Of sapphire their form.
8Darker than blackness hath been their visage, They have not been known in out-places, Cleaved hath their skin unto their bone, It hath withered -- it hath been as wood.
